Proby: Lance Corporal Exben
by Syl Evanesco
Summary: *Note for introduction: I'm aware women aren't in combat situations like the one I write, I like to bend the rules.* Fiona Exben was created and owned by me. This is a rough draft so please excuse the grammer and possible minor punctuation/spelling errors
1. 0 Introduction

It was 0300 and the hospital was a stereotypical building from a B rated horror film, complete with absent night staff and flickering hallway lights. The young Corporal had been in several hospitals in the Middle East, all of the blended together after a while. The rows of beds with his wounded men all looked the same, the only thing that ever changed were the faces on the beds. There was only one face that stuck out against the sea of injured men, the face of his fiancé.

His back was stiff and his legs partially numb from sitting in an old metal chair for thirteen hours, but he wasn't planning on moving until she woke up. He was concerned about all of his men, but his heart was hollow seeing her in such a helpless state. If the young man responsible for her injuring wasn't currently lying in critical condition as well, he envisioned himself seeking revenge with his hands around the young soldiers' neck.

It was supposed to be a simple sweet of a civilian village. They had received no Intel or heard any chatter indicating there was any terrorist cell hiding out there. In combat his mind was always thinking about every one of his men's safety, but in the midst of the enemy fire and RPG's going off he lost sight of her. Though he wanted to get to her more than anything, he couldn't leave his other men. Body after broken body he carried them into a shelter. His men were dropping like flies and there wasn't much he could do to stop it.

He was brought out of his memories by a twitch of her hand that he was holding. Her eyes were now moving rapidly against her lids, her breathing becoming fast and shallow. His legs shook under his weight, but he stood steadily next to her, leaning over slightly to hold her face in both of his hands trying desperately to get her to wake up.

"Come on Fiona, please wake up." A strong man like him has never begged for anything in hi life. He felt as though if he could just see her eyes open that everything would be ok.

"Corporal," at first it was just a mutter, a word he could barely understand. "Corporal," This time it was a bit louder, he heard her clearly. "Damon!" She was almost screaming as her eyes shot open and her hands seized his wrists in a vice like grip.

"Fiona, it's ok, you're ok," he didn't let go of her face and kept wiping her tears away with his thumbs.

"I'm not ok Damon, I can't move my legs," she had a horrified look on her face as she strained to move her lower limbs. "Why can't I move my legs?" Fiona started crying uncontrollably now.

His mind faded back to the attack, after back up had arrived and gained control over the situation. Four helicopters were required to carry his injured men out of the area. He remembered PFC Johnston coming up to him, weapon still in hand, and a large gash above his left eye. His friend carried with him news he would never forget.

"It's Ebxen, Corporal; she's been wounded pretty badly."

"Where is she?"

"Two streets over, the medics are trying to stabilize her enough to fly." The rest of the PFC's words seemed distant as they made their way over to where the last helicopter was waiting.

The sight of his fiancé laying on the ground, covered in blood from the chest down, was burned into his eyes whenever he darned to close them. She had been stripped of her gear, leaving the shredded remains of her lower back exposed. In all his years of active duty he had never seen an injury so bad on a solider that was still alive.

"Fi, do you remember the ambush?"

"I remember leaving for the village, and then it all blurs together," she chocked down the tears as she spoke. "What happened Damon, where are we?"

"We're in Kuwait, Lance got shot in the leg and lost his M16, he went down before he could get to cover. Johnston said you jumped on top of him to protect him from a grenade. You were unconscious by the time the medic got to you. A piece of shrapnel was lodged into your spine, doctors have been arguing about attempting surgery to remove it. They said there is a 90% chance that surgery could permanently paralyze you from the waste down. They said it's just causing temporary paralysis now, the decision is up to you." The words were just as hard for him to say as they were for her to hear.

"Who did we lose?" He could tell she was trying to calm herself down as he recited the list of the fourteen men who perished no less than twenty four hours ago. "When can they do the surgery?"

"The two specialists are going to be here at 0600 to discuss your options with you. You had me worried Silly Girl." She tried to smile when he used the nickname that he had given to her when they were both still in training, but it only half worked.

"I didn't know Corporal Punishment was capable of feeling worried"

"Only about you."


	2. 101 One Year, Nine Months Later

"Miss Exben, no college degree, no previous law enforcement experience. Spent eight years enlisted in the US Marine Core, ranked as a staff sergeant, specialized in artillery and hand to hand combat. Participated in off duty boxing matches, won most of them against fellow male recruits, highly recommended by your commanding gunnery sergeant, and not a single spot on your record." The director of NCIS set my file down and placed her hands, one over the other, on top of the paper work. "You also come highly recommended by your father. Your application states that you applied to the Virginia Police Academy after being dismissed from rehab. Why did they turn you down Miss Exben?"

"On my last tour in Afghanistan my unit was ambushed. While shielding a fellow officer who didn't take cover I sustained serious injuries from shrapnel in my lower back. The doctor in Kuwait said that I would never walk again. But after nine months of physical therapy I'm good as new. The Police Academy declined my application because of my previous injury and didn't think it would be wise to take on such a broken candidate. But, since going through rehab I haven't had any problems with keeping my physical condition as high as it was when I was in the core."

She smiled and picked up another stack of papers. Before I was graced with the honor of getting an interview with the director I already had to go through many other obstacles. The first was my psychological evaluation. The second was my firearms qualifications. The second was the easiest. I was always better at handling weapons than handling people, but my confidence in both tests showed.

"This is by far the best firearms qualification I have seen in many years Miss Exben. Our psychologist also gave you a high evaluation. No signs of post traumatic stress disorder, no problems with authority, above average observation skills. There isn't a single reason in either of these tests to say I shouldn't make you a probationary agent. The only concern I have Miss Exben is the relationship you have with one of our current employee's."

"My father and I know how to place our personal lives outside of the work place. I can almost guarantee that he will not give me any special treatment if I am placed on his team."

"Miss Exben, usually I am opposed to the idea of keeping secrets in the work place, but the kind of gossip that the situation could start isn't something I'm sure either of us would enjoy dealing with. I am going to hire you, but I would like your word that outside of your fathers' team, you keep the number of people who know you are related limited."

"You have my word mama."

"I expect you at 0720 tomorrow morning. I will have to file the paper work, but you will need to come see me to pick up your badge and your firearm. Welcome to NCIS Miss Exben." She rose from her chair and extended her hand. I gladly took it, thanked her for the job, and promised again to keep my word on our agreement.

She wished me a good night, and I returned the favor, before leaving the room. There were very few agents in the building on a Sunday afternoon. I knew by tomorrow things would be hectic, and I couldn't wait. I had a hard time adjusting back to civilian life after rehab. One of the hardest thing was finding a job where I wouldn't lose that feeling of having a purpose like I did in the core. My father understood that, and after my failure to stick with college and secure a job, he offered a helping hand.


	3. 102 Santa Baby

Yet against another week of twelve hour days had gone by and the young NCIS special agent was late paying his bills again. The time at the Georgetown Post Office was longer than it should have been on a Wednesday morning. Special Agent McGee glanced at his watch for the fourth time since he had arrived ten minutes ago. At this rate not only was he going to be late on getting his bill payments mailed, but getting to work as well.

The young agent took another small step forward as a man dressed in a Santa Claus costume left the front of the line. McGee gave the bearded man a puzzled look, after all, it was the middle of September, why would someone be dressed up as Santa. As Santa reached the door he turned to face the beginning of the line, impatiently waiting his turn. That's when a rather large African American woman shifted her weight and he caught a glimpse of another person dressed in a costume. Only this one was wearing a fuzzy pink Easter Bunny costume.

Two men who didn't seem to know each other, each dressed in a strange costume, seemed weird, even for this section of town. Instinctively he turned back around to see if Santa had left the building. His worst fears were confirmed when he saw Santa was still standing in front of the doors holding a BCM M4 CARB MOD semi automatic rifle. Before he could react he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Now he knew that he was late for work.

"Everyone if I could have your attention please?" Santa made his presence known to everyone who hadn't seen him standing at the door. A few women gasped, one let out a little scream, but surprisingly the civilians were remaining relatively calm. "If you do as you're told, we won't kill all of you. Now, if everyone who was waiting in line, please line up against the window and the door. Leave your purses and bags in the floor." Some people jumped to his orders right away, why others hesitated, eyeing his rifle as if it was an illusion existing only in their minds.

McGee was starting to do as the gun men requested when the Easter Bunny appeared at his side.

"Not you NCIS, you're coming to the back."

He held up his hands as the giant pink bunny pointed his gun directly as his forehead. A million and one scenarios were playing through his mind about the possible outcomes. Not a single one ended with him walking out alive, but he had to remain calm. He reminded himself that he was trained to handle situations like this if he could just keep his mind clear. Gibbs and the team would know something was up when he didn't show up. They'd be on top of the problem in no time. All he had to do was his job on the inside. Which was prevent civilian casualties, figure out what the dirt bags wanted, and try not to die himself. If only it was as easy to do as it was to say, or think.


End file.
